


Moving Bus

by tiggeryumyum



Category: Gyakuten Saiban | Ace Attorney
Genre: Gangbang, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-29
Updated: 2011-07-29
Packaged: 2017-10-23 04:16:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/246192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiggeryumyum/pseuds/tiggeryumyum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Apollo is passed around during a poker game. Consensual gangbang.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moving Bus

**Title** Moving Bus  
 **Rating** NC-17  
 **Prompt** : Apollo is passed around during a poker game.

Consensual please!! Maybe with some fluff? I just want Edgeworth and Phoenix fingering and banging Apollo lovingly. <3

Pairings: Edgeworth/Apollo, Phoenix/Apollo, Klavier/Apollo, Gumshoe/Apollo

After the second time, they brought a gag.

It's not like they wanted to, they've never used it during their poker games before, but Apollo's a special case. It's just really hard to focus on your hand when the cards are in danger of being blown off the table by the Chords of Steel.

Klavier was against the whole idea, but he didn't have to worry. Even gagged, they can hear his shaking whimpers clear as day. His groans when he's hoisted up, onto the table, passed from Klavier to Edgeworth to Phoenix to Gumshoe, sobbing as he throws his head back, adjusting to the girth of a new cock.

His hips are small – well, all of him is, but he always has to spread his thighs so _wide_ when they put him on their lap, force him down, _down_ , until it's all the way in and he's shaking, gripping at table, their arms, anything he can reach to brace himself as he's rocked, bouncing on one lap after another.

It gets easier as the night goes on. He gets more delirious, more pliable. It's not like he's unwilling at the beginning of the night, not at all, but there's a kind of natural resistance the body gives, one that can only be worn down with time, slowly, gently stripped away with orgasm after orgasm, which they coax out of Apollo, one after another. By the end of the night his flexible little body can be bent and twisted in all kinds of shapes, and Apollo just pants, moaning in dazed, almost drugged pleasure, shuddering, reduced to a raw little thing in their hands as they do what they wish with his body, fuck him in all sorts of positions, spreading him wide, doubling him over, covering him in sweat, tears and come.

Klavier had him during the last hand during the last game, which made it his responsibility to make sure Apollo was stretched and ready for them at the beginning of this week's: something Apollo's size and tightness requires, otherwise they spend half the night trying to unwind the uptight little attorney before the fun can even begin.

Klavier did a decent job, like always. There was still some wincing that first time Apollo sank down onto Edgeworth's cock, his breath still caught the first time Edgeworth thrust in but it's to be expected.

None of them prepare Apollo's ridiculously tight, tiny hole as throughly as Edgeworth, who brings Apollo to the games already blushing and shaking, and Phoenix can tell just by looking at Apollo, the way he squirms, that under his layers, under his jacket, his little vest, his pants, that his hole is stretched and dripping and ready to take even Gumshoe's monster. Phoenix's not sure what Edgeworth does to get him so well prepared but it makes for some of the best games. He's so needy those nights, so open. So easy to slide in, and he trembles as he's taken, over and over, clinging to them, not wanting to let go.

Edgeworth has him now, and he's doing what he usually does: just sitting. Balls deep in the kid, making him squirm. He doesn't give Apollo a proper fucking until the hand is done or Apollo starts going out of his mind, whichever comes first. Apollo's head is back on Edgeworth's broad shoulder, his eyes wide and unfocused, panting softly. He's probably grateful for the break, even though his own cock is hard and leaking, still wet from the last time he came all over himself.

"I raise," says Edgeworth, keeping his hand with the cards pressed against Apollo's trembling stomach, leaning forward to push three more chips into the pot.

Apollo is suddenly moaning, wildly, shaking his head back and forth. Edgeworth groans once, tight, as if in pain, spreads the boy's thighs a little wider and begins impaling him properly, bouncing him almost viciously on his lap. Apollo whimpers with each thrust in, eyes closed tight as tears begin squeezing out – not out of pain. He usually ends up tearing up about half way through, just from the intensity of it all. And Edgeworth usually leaves bruises, right now, right when he's coming, grunting into Apollo's neck, squeezing his large hands on the insides of his pale, spread thighs as he gives his last jerks, emptying himself inside the boy.

Apollo comes immediately afterward, spraying his chest and arching, the gag actually managing to muffle his whimper, face going so pink, but never once fighting Edgeworth's hold on his thighs.

Edgeworth wins that hand, and Phoenix claims Apollo while he's still shuddering in the aftermath, eyes still clearing. He's small enough that hoisting him clear over the table is only a slight hassle.

"Shh, kiddo," Phoenix whispers, kissing the hot, soft skin of Apollo's cheek, stroking the hair from his forehead. "You're doing so good. So good."

This is part of it, too, maybe the most important part. Phoenix never hears the other men's secret whispers to the kid, but they all do it. The praise, the soothing attention, it's always what makes Apollo blush the brightest, come the hardest, sob the loudest. For a while Phoenix was guiltily sure it was the only reason why Apollo was coming to these things. That he was just that desperate for attention from authority figures. But Phoenix tried being more blatant in the day to day, outside of this perverted setting, giving praise that wasn't attached to how well he takes cock, how sweet he sounds when he does, how tight he is, but Apollo didn't seem to know what to do with it. He'd freeze up and stutter instead of moaning like he does now, like it's a healing salve, applied to some hidden, festering wound.

"Yeah, there you go," Phoenix moans quietly, stroking the boy's cock slowly, firmly. "You're my sweetest boy, my best boy."

Apollo whimpers, spent cock twitching in Phoenix's hand, but the rest of the boy goes limp for him, hiding his face against Phoenix's neck. Phoenix likes the full weight of him, it's a warm, comfortable burden, the kind that's easy to carry. He keeps up his murmuring praises, _so pretty, perfect, love you like this_ , stroking the boy's cock, making the his whine build to a sob, and he grows hard again, eyes slitted and wet as he watches Phoenix play his body.

Edgeworth has left Apollo's hole well-stretched and wet, and he gives the sweetest little gasp when Phoenix slides inside. It's tight, still, and hot. Phoenix's never been one for teasing, and he bounces Apollo on his cock, steady and slow. He winds his arms around Apollo's chest, pulling him tight, pulling him _down_ , harder, onto his lap.

Phoenix wets his thumbs in his mouth before bringing them to Apollo's chest, rubbing his pinkish, pretty little nipples and watching him lose it, throw his head back and jam himself onto Phoenix harder, desperate for more.

"Yeah," Phoenix praises almost deliriously, sure as he always is in these moments, that nothing is as good, as tight, as soft as Apollo's ass, no one rides him as well, or responds as prettily to his petting. He comes with a series of angry sounding grunts, practically lifting his ass from the chair as he pounds deep into Apollo, making sure he takes all if it, all he can give.

Apollo is dazed and gasping in Phoenix's lap, obviously wanting to curl into him and Phoenix helps, running a hand through Apollo's hair, petting back his drooping bangs, as he recovers slowly. Phoenix missed this hand, will have to be dealt into the next one, but it's worth it, as he feels Apollo's shaky little exhales against his collar bone.

By the next round, Gumshoe has his Apollo over his lap, sideways. He never fucks Apollo, he's never even tried. He likes to play with him though, petting and stroking, groping his ass, pinching a cheek almost playfully, and laughing when Apollo gives a surprised little yelp. He chuckles, patting the boy's pink rear in apology. He slicks his fingers before delving between and in Apollo's cheeks, just rubbing teasingly at the boy's raw, needy hole, and all Phoenix could see of Apollo is his ass, canting back for more, and his little socked feet when he lifts them, toes curling as he moans.

"Like that, buddy?" Gumshoe asks, Phoenix can tell from the broken little whine that drifts up from under the table that he's finally sticking Apollo with his fingers. He continues to finger fuck Apollo almost absentmindedly as he considers the hand of cards he's been dealt.

It's obvious when he's got a good hand: Gumshoe picks up the pace of his fat, thick fingers, going deeper and wider, obviously pressing right up against his prostate if Apollo's helpless, sobbing spasms are anything to go by. Phoenix's not sure when he comes, because Gumshoe doesn't bother to slow down, continuing to rub at the sensitive bundle of nerves, over and over.

Apollo's completely, utterly spent when Gumshoe lifts him upright. He flops limply against Gumshoe's shoulder, eyes drooping and face bright red from the position. Gumshoe grins at the sight of him, cuddling him close against his chest, giving him a peek of the cards he still holds, although Apollo doesn't seem like he's capable of stringing two words together just then, let alone give advice for a game he still doesn't know how to play. He's asleep by the time they last hand is dealt.

This isn't the first time Klavier's had to help Apollo dress after the games; he's so tired he's shaking, barely able to keep his eyes open, and he leans against Klavier as the taller man buttons up his shirt, helps him with his vest, making an attempt at straightening his hair.

Klavier murmurs bits of German as he does so, things that certainly sound romantic and calming, and smirking at Apollo's little moans of protest. Klavier straightens his own jacket. "I will be helping Herr Forehead home. Same time next week, ja?"


End file.
